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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994311">Dim as an Ember</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately'>treaddelicately</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 &amp; Broadway) Fusion, Amnesia, Comfort, F/M, and a tiny bit of angst, mentions of Pietro Maximoff - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not a single woman James ever interviewed had come nearly as close to looking like Wanda Maximoff as Anka did. The fact that she was an orphan and was searching for her family had made it easy.</p>
<p>Travel to Paris, put her in front of the <i>Tsarevich</i>, and let her convince him that she was everything he’d been looking for. She would get a family and he and Natasha would get their money, and that would be the end of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Wanda Maximoff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dim as an Ember</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/gifts">earnmysong</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sweet, lovely @earnmysong requested a Winterwitch fic a while back, which became a fusion of snowed in, cozy, and an Anastasia AU that we were all craving. She even made me a lovely moodboard for insiration, which you can find and reblog <a href="https://earnmysong.tumblr.com/post/636891575646093312/girl-gets-a-family-boy-gets-rich-and-fairytale">here</a>! </p>
<p>Beta work courtesy of the always fantastic @myracingthoughts, who put this universe in my brain where it has lived rent-free since.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even with the shutters drawn and the fireplace blazing, the ramshackle cabin seemed unable to retain heat. James had tucked spare rags into every doorway and crevice that he could find in an attempt to keep them comfortable, but the storm outside was brutal and unforgiving.</p>
<p>After the long trek from the train station, Natasha had declared herself too exhausted to handle or worry about it until the morning, and had wrapped herself in a shoddy blankets and some fur-lined coats and gone to sleep in one of the two tiny beds in the corner. James knew better than to rouse her until she’d gotten a few hours and had taken the silent cue to keep watch over Anka.</p>
<p>She hadn’t truly sat down since they arrived at the cabin, first fussing with her luggage while he got the fire started and now she paced back and forth between the small sofa and the fireplace. He watched her fidget with her sleeves and jump each time a gust of wind hit the side of their sanctuary, her lips moving in some sort of silent prayer.</p>
<p>“Anka,” he sighed. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor. At least sit down.”</p>
<p>She frowned at him but settled on the sofa, seeming to curl in on herself. He settled next to her with a raised eyebrow, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them to get rid of some of the chill.</p>
<p>“You don’t like storms,” he guessed, vindicated when she gave a subtle nod. “You’ve lived in Sokovia your entire life and you’re not used to the snowstorms?”</p>
<p>Anka chewed her lower lip. “I dream about it. Getting lost in the позёмка, unable to find my way out.”</p>
<p>James turned slightly towards her, curiosity burning deep inside him.</p>
<p>She had that constant effect of befuddlement, after all. Ever since he and Natasha had found her traipsing around the old palace as though she owned the place, Anka had seemingly made it her mission to baffle him at every turn.</p>
<p>On the other hand, she was a dream come true. A petite young girl with green eyes, red hair, and the general build of the lost princess that he’d been searching for for years. Not a single woman he’d ever interviewed had come nearly as close to looking like Wanda Maximoff as Anka did. The fact that she was an orphan and was searching for her family had made it easy.</p>
<p>The promise of hope and a new life had been all she’d needed to join him and Natasha. She didn’t want to deceive anyone, least of all the reclusive Pietro Maximoff, grieving his family and searching for his twin sister, but she hadn’t said no to their plans, either. </p>
<p>Travel to Paris, put her in front of the <i>Tsarevich</i>, and let her convince him that she was everything he’d been looking for. She would get a family and he and Natasha would get their money, and that would be the end of it.</p>
<p>Strange, though. That she mentioned dreaming about losing herself in a snowstorm, when the last anyone had ever seen of Wanda Maximoff had been a hint of red hair running through the snow.</p>
<p>James didn’t put a voice to the coincidence. When she shivered again, he pulled another of the thin blankets from the back of the sofa and tucked it around her. Anka made a small noise and untucked one half, draping it over his lap instead so they both had some sort of cover. It wasn’t thick enough to do much but insulate them, but he was grateful all the same.</p>
<p>“Tell me,” he said after the silence stretched too long. “You really don’t remember anything?”</p>
<p>Anka stared straight ahead at the fire, her tone wistful. “I’ve told you, James, I have nothing. I woke in the orphanage without even a name. This is all that I have.”</p>
<p>She held up her right hand, displaying the dainty ring wrapped around her middle finger. The ring itself was simple, a silver band that curved into ornate filaments securing a single polished emerald in place, but Anka looked at it as though it were the most priceless item in the world.</p>
<p>“It was on a chain around my neck when they found me. Too big for my little hands, I suppose.”</p>
<p>“I’m very surprised that it survived the orphanage,” James pointed out.</p>
<p>She smiled ruefully. “There were many times it could have been stolen from me, or I could have bartered it away. But <i>someone</i> wanted me to have it. I just wish I knew who, or why.”</p>
<p>Silence enveloped them again while Anka examined her ring and James examined her. There was nothing for him to say. He had lost his family young, but he had known them. Natasha was much better equipped to handle this sort of information, even if she’d be less than tactful about it.</p>
<p>The fire roaring in front of them cast a soft orange glow on Anka’s face, but the overwhelming sadness he’d expect to see was nowhere to be found. Instead he saw longing and a deep, thriving determination. Something shifted in his gut, radiating through him like a physical manifestation of sympathy and pride.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s what we’re headed to find out,” her told her softly. “When we meet the Grand Duke, you can ask him yourself.”</p>
<p>Anka looked up at him, eyes wide. </p>
<p>“Do you think he’ll remember me?”</p>
<p>Something in her expression sent him backwards, cast back in time to another pair of green eyes. </p>
<p>It would be simple to explain it away as the con. He could have been seeing everything he <i>wanted</i> to see, after all. James had spent so much time convincing everyone around them that Anka was royalty that perhaps he’d convinced himself as well.</p>
<p>But her eyes were the same shape, the same shade. The same fear held there that he’d seen once, years ago, accompanied by grasping hands and a flash of red hair just before he’d ushered her through the trapdoor to what he’d thought was safety.</p>
<p>Perhaps after all this time, that was why he had chosen Anka. He hadn’t been able to save Wanda Maximoff that night in the palace, but he could make things right. Delivering Anka to a family that she desperately wanted, to a brother who would welcome her with open arms, didn’t feel like a deception. When James thought about how he’d failed before, this small lie felt more like penance.</p>
<p>Anka was still staring at him, waiting for his answer.</p>
<p>“I think everything will be fine.” He wouldn’t lie to her, but she was a quick study, and Natasha had been teaching her his tells.</p>
<p>The sofa creaked as she shifted to turn towards him, her jaw set stubbornly. “That’s not what I asked.”</p>
<p>It was only a hunch. He wouldn’t inject any more false hope than he’d already given her with his own fanciful memories, when the chances of it being true were no more likely than the Tsar himself rising from the grave. But there was something there, something in the depths of her eyes…</p>
<p>“Yes,” he murmured. “I think he’ll remember you.”</p>
<p>Outside, the storm picked up and the howling wind sent the shutters rattling. Anka inhaled sharply and her weight shifted, bringing her closer to him by a few inches. James lifted his arm around settled it around her shoulders, tucking her against his side.</p>
<p>“We’ll be stuck here, won’t we?”</p>
<p>“For a few days, perhaps,” James shrugged one shoulder. “It shouldn’t be too much of a hindrance. We’ll still make it to Paris on time, Anka.”</p>
<p>She hummed a low noise of agreement. Her head found his shoulder and they breathed together in the quiet, warmed by each other’s presence and the blanket they shared. Together they sat for a long while, awaiting the next wave of the storm with Natasha’s soft snores and the crackling fire to keep them company.</p>
<p>“Thank you, James,” Anka whispered after a time. He turned his head, surprised to find her dozing with her eyes closed on his shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”</p>
<p>He swallowed hard, rubbing his hand gently over her arm. A response wasn’t necessary, because then her breathing deepened and her face went slack with sleep, but the effect was the same. </p>
<p>When everything was over, they would have to part ways. He and Natasha would take their money and leave Anka to her new life. He may have lied to her, encouraged a story he knew was a farce, but he would be lying all over again if he said he didn’t want this for her even more now. She was well on her way to gaining everything she’d been missing while she grew up, after all. A family to love her and take care of her. That was important to him.</p>
<p><i>She</i> was important to him.</p>
<p>The storm raged outside, but Anka still slept on his shoulder. Gently, James reached over to smooth her hair from her face, his heart stuttering at the peaceful expression it revealed. She never stirred except to burrow more against his side, into his arm, without a single hint of a bad dream. </p>
<p>In the morning they would assess the damage and continue their journey, but for now, he could give her this small amount of comfort.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! For the curious, the word Anka/Wanda uses (<b>позёмка</b>) translates to a variation of 'blowing snow' in Russian, which Google tells me is often used to describe blizzards. </p>
<p>Feel free to leave a kudos if you enjoyed and if you'd like to leave a comment, that would be delightful, too! xoxo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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